If I thought the way he looked at me in that hallway was dangerous... it was nothing compared to the way he looks at me now, under the dim lights of the bar like he already knows exactly how tight my thigh would clutch around his fingers if he ever slid them into me.

The heat floods back with such cruelty, I didn't expect my body to tighten at the memory of how he held me open with one hand while he rammed into me with the other.

My breath stutters at the memory, heat curling low in my stomach: This is utterly wrong, utterly forbidden. And here I am, trapped behind the bar at my mate's wedding, pretending I'm fine, pretending my skin isn't still buzzing for a man I shouldn't even want. A man whose name I still didn't know when he made me shake apart beneath him. The memory vanishes just as fast, leaving my pulse tripping over itself.

*******

"What?" I whisper, the weight of his words crashing into me.

"The bar," he mutters,

nudging at the door behind me. "You are in my way."

Of course. The damn bar.

I slide away from the door, but the stranger doesn't move. There is something about him that makes me narrow my eyes, peering at him from underneath my lashes.

His eyes take in the blood in my hands, slowly drying. His stare lingers too long, on my lips, my throat, the pulse jumping in my wrist as if he's memorizing the places he wants to touch later. My breath slips unevenly, and his eyes flick down at the sound, sharp and hungry. Wordlessly, he gets on the same level as me and pulls it to him. At first, I struggle in his grip, trying to flinch away from his touch.

But one look straight into my eyes has me stopping. Slowly, his fingers work at the remaining shards of glass in my hand, taking every bit out. I look into his eyes as he works so intently, the dark pools focused on his task. His fingers barely graze my palm, but the jolt that shoots up my arm is vicious; white-hot, electric, a warning I'm too broken to obey. His jaw flexes once, as if he felt it too.

I don't think I have ever seen him around. I would have noticed. This man doesn't blend into crowds easily, with his silver hair framing his face, and the contrast with his eyes is hard to miss.

Like darkness and light.

He retrieves a bottle of alcohol from his coat and pours it over the injury.

"Fuck!" I groan as the pain hits. He arches his brows but says nothing else, carefully sheathing his drink before rising to his feet again.

He watches me shake instead, eyes darkening with something that feels too much like possession. "Pain teaches you where you bleed," he murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. "And who notices."

I gaze up at him, confused.

He shrugs. "I am not particularly a fan of the drinks being served out here. The Alpha's son could have done better."

"Why are you helping

me?" I whisper, pulling myself off the ground. The wound has begun to heal, although still slower than the normal rate of other wolves.

"I'm not," he murmurs.

"You were just in my way."

We walk back in

together, and I notice we are heading the same way. He slides onto one of the stools at the bar, while I grab a tray.

"Sit," he orders. The command isn't loud. It doesn't need to be. My knees go weak before my mind catches up, heat flooding embarrassingly low in my thigh. Alphas don't usually affect me like this. No one does actually.

I blink rapidly. "What?"

His eyes, dark and unreadable, pin me in place. "I said sit. I'm sure someone else can play servant tonight."

I should argue. I should walk away before I get into trouble.

But for some reason, I can't find the willpower to say no, so, instead, I slide onto the stool, staring at that pool of dark eyes again. His hands work mechanically as he retrieves the alcohol in his coat again, pulling two glasses our way.

After pouring a healthy amount, he pushes one to me. The smell burns before it even touches my lips. He studies every movement I make. Every swallow, every breath like he's stripping me without touching me. The worst part? My thigh throbs like it's begging for his hands in me instead of his eyes.

"Drink up."

"Are you trying to make me drunk?"

He shrugs. "You don't need my help for that. You already look half–drowned in exhaustion and mystery."

Heat creeps up my face as I turn away, my gaze landing on Aiden. "I guess I am not a fan of parties where I can't enjoy myself."

"Me neither," he murmurs, his firm hands circling his glass as he raises it to his lips. "I'm here out of obligation."

"At least, you are not made to serve tables like some slave."

He smirks. "I'm far from being a slave, Lyra."

Perfect. He knows my name. What else does he know?

I should go help the others out with serving drinks till the end of the wedding, as Aiden has instructed. Yet, for some reason, I slide further into the stool, taking my first sip of the drink.

It burns my throat instantly, and I wheeze. But I keep going back for more, under his watchful gaze.

The stranger.

He isn't saying anything. Just watching, as if trying to unravel a mystery.

The liquor becomes dull on my tongue as I keep going. It gives me something else to focus on other than Selene's sharp laughter, finding me from across the room. It is easy to point her out, standing as regal as ever.

She is now beside her mother and father, the Beta of the book. Happiness flows through them. In the near future, their daughter is going to be a Luna.

While I will remain the same.

Nothing.

"Careful," he says, his lips barely moving.

A scowl etches onto my face. "Why do you care?"

"I don't." His lips twitch, but it doesn't stretch into a smile. "I just prefer not to drink with someone who collapses halfway through. And alcohol poisoning is a thing.

Haven't you heard of it?"

"You're bossy."

"I've been told worse."

He leans back against the counter, his silver strands catching the dim lights.

I can't read his gaze, no matter how hard I try. And right now, his dark eyes are beginning to twirl.

Or is that the drink?

He leans in closer to me, his warm breath teasing my ears... just enough heat to burn along my skin. My thighs

clench instinctively. He pauses just a fraction too long as if he hears the sound my body makes.

 "You have been staring at the bride for a while now. You should say hello while you can."

The rest of the room seem to fade away, leaving just the two of us. Every part of me is aware of the stranger as he lingers on my ear, his lips grazing my skin softly before he pulls away.

"I should leave," I mutter, sliding out of the stool and heading towards the door blindly. Halfway through, I remember the warriors won't let me out. Not after Aiden warned them to keep her inside the building until I watch every minute of the wedding.

I hate him. I should hate him.

The stranger from earlier approaches, taking my hand in his. He doesn't ask permission. His hand closes around mine, large, warm, unyielding. A single tug and my body follows his like it

always belonged in his pull. The warriors bow their heads as we approach, spines stiffening under his aura.

And without warning, he strides out of the door. The warriors do not as much as blink at him, keeping their gazes to the ground until we walk past them.

"Who are you?" I mutter the words I should have asked an hour ago.

"Where should I drop you?" 

I stop then, realizing that I cannot go back to the pack house. Selene is going to move in tonight,

and I do not think I can bear to see them all cuddly, the look of smug satisfaction on her face.

In a split second, I look up at the stranger, saying the first thing that comes to my mind.

"Take me home with you."

For a breathless moment, something passes between us-dark, magnetic, terrifying. The air hums. The medallion beneath his shirt sparks to life, a faint green flash against his chest, answering something inside me that aches to be touched.

He doesn't notice it, but I do.

And suddenly, I am filled with the strange belief that it belongs to me.

 "Get in the car, Lyra," he says softly. "Before I do something I'm not supposed to."

 Something in me tightens, trembling.

 And I obey, because gods help me, I want him to.

If sin had a scent, it would be his. The moment I slide into the passenger seat, I realize too late how short my dress is...The fabric climbs high up my thighs as I sit, baring more skin than I mean to. I tug it down instinctively but his eyes catch the movement.

His gaze drops slowly and deliberately lands exactly where my fingers are. Heat shoots up my spine. I snap my legs together, pressing my knees shut like I can trap my dignity between them. His eyes lift settling on my face with a knowing look that makes my stomach flutter painfully.

He smirks.

"Close them faster next time," he murmurs.

My breath stumbles. "That... that wasn't-"

"An invitation?" he finishes for me, his voice low, almost amused. "You'd be surprised how loud your body speaks, Lyra."

I stare straight ahead, refusing to look at him, but that only makes the air tighter. His presence fills the car-heat, dominance, dark patience. When he starts the engine, the vibration under me feels too intimate, too much, and I curse my own heartbeat for reacting.

As the car begins moving, the interior lights glow soft and gold. Enough for me to see him clearly. Too clearly. That's when I notice it, his gaze isn't on the road, it's on me, on my thighs, on the beautiful curves that bobbed before my chest, on the dip of the dress stretched tight across my chest.

I swallow hard. He notices.

His fingers flex once on the steering wheel.

I shift in my seat, thighs pressing together again, but it only makes the fabric of my dress slide higher. His eyes flicker at the movement, darkening with something that makes heat curl low and desperate inside me.

"Does that dress ever stay in place?" he murmurs.

"It's not- it's just the fabric," I whisper.

His mouth curves, cruel in its softness. "Then stop moving."

Too late his shaft stood triumphant, unmistakably hungry.

I turn away pretending, cheeks burning, but that only makes me more aware of him-how big he is, how close, and how his breath deepens every time his eyes brush over me.

My thoughts slip, dangerous, filthy things that I shouldn't be thinking about a stranger, let alone an Alpha, let alone a man who hasn't even kissed me yet, but somehow feels like he already has.

He shifts slightly in his seat battling his urges maybe.

He knows I noticed.

His jaw flexes once, and without warning, he reaches up and dims the interior light.

A long beat of silence stretches between us.

"Better," he mutters.                                                                                                             "For both of us."

But the darkness doesn't help. If anything, it makes everything sharper: the sound of his breath, the heat radiating from his body, the soft brush of his fingers against the steering wheel, and the way I feel his attention on me like a hand sliding down my skin.

I longed to caressed his rod, thoughts of my tongue lapping on his cock filled my mind.

By the time he turns onto the gravel road leading to his villa, I'm certain of one thing:

If he doesn't kiss me soon, I might break first.

The car rolls to a stop. No one moved, not until he finally turns his head toward me slowly and his eyes land on my lips like he's already chosen what he's going to do to them.

"Get out," he murmurs, voice low and rough.

My breath shatters.

He still doesn't tell me his name or who he is. Instead, he walks me to a convertible parked at the other side of the road, not saying a word until we arrive at a villa on the outskirts of the town.

Beauty doesn't even begin to describe how it looks, with vines climbing the ceiling-to-floor windows and the flicker of lights coming from a room upstairs. This place feels wrong for a stranger like me. Too wild. Too alive. Too aware. As if the walls themselves are holding their breath, waiting for what he's about to do to me.

He leads the way, his tall frame easily towering over me as we walk through a dark hallway. He walks like he owns the room, like everyone bows to him when he appears.

And there is this flicker of power underneath, something that compels me to keep moving, rather than turning around as every rationality screams in me.

But I have nothing to return to.

"Stay here," he says as we reach the cozy living area. "I'll be right back." His voice dips low, velvet, commanding. It slides down my spine in a way that makes my thighs press together. Not out of fear. Out of the dangerous, shameful anticipation pooling low in my stomach.

It feels like nature is watching us, with all the trees around me. I hear a waterfall crashing in the distance, and my eyes find it at the far corner through the window, breathtakingly imposing.

"You found it," he murmurs, striding back into the living room. "It was the reason I built this place. I get to watch it in peace."

"In peace?"

He hands me a glass of water. "Don't leave a drop in it." His fingers brush mine for barely half a second. Barely. Yet heat knifes up my arm so violently I almost drop the glass. His eyes flick to my lips when I gasp. A slow, knowing drag of his gaze. Like he felt it too.

Nodding, I throw my head back and gulp down its contents, aware of his gaze licking every corner of my skin. It burns where his eyes touch, and I feel something warm in the pit of my stomach.

When I hand him the glass, his fingers graze mine. A jolt of electricity washes through me suddenly, and I jump back. He must have felt it too, but he gives nothing away, still maintaining that cool demeanour that fills me with the need to see beneath it.

"This was a bad idea," I whisper, my voice coming out husky. He arches a brow, then slides the glass onto the table behind us.

"Lyra..."

"I should go."

He steps in. One step. Just enough for his chest to brush mine, for his breath to ghost my cheek.

At first, it seems like he is going to argue. But he nods and nudges me towards the door. "My driver will take you back," he says, his hands in his pockets as we reach the doors.

I try to ignore the strange hurt in my chest, but it comes out through my tone. "You're not taking me yourself."

"If you leave now," he murmurs, "I will follow." My heartbeat stutters violently. "Why?" His eyes drop slowly to my mouth

He shakes his head. "You said it yourself. This is a bad idea."

"Will you tell me your name?"

His gaze washes through my features, and with the light flickering behind him, he looks so ethereal that it leaves a hitch in my throat.

He moves slowly, stalking me like a predator until my back hits the wall next to the door. His eyes fall on my lips, just as I hear a click next to me. The dense air from the hallway creeps into the living room.

"Go, Lyra. Leave while you can."

I stare up at him with huge eyes, unable to move an inch.

"Lyra," he breathes, my name falling from his lips like a whisper on a rainy day. "I don't think I will be able to let you go if you stay here for another minute, and I can't guarantee what will happen next."

My hands reach for the door, and I slam it shut, still looking at him.

His eyes grow even darker, as the second the door clicks shut behind us, the world narrows to his breath and the heat coming off his skin. "Lyra," he murmurs a warning or plea, I can't tell. I barely manage a breath before his mouth crashes into mine not gentle, not testing but hungry. His lips claim mine like he's been starving for years and I'm the first taste of anything real. My back hits the wall, his hand tangling in my hair, angling my head just the way he wants. A broken sound slips from my throat, and he answers it with a low groan that burns through my stomach.

My back is arched, and my legs pressed to the wall, and his tongue finds mine. I have never been kissed before, yet I can tell that this is far from soft and sweet.

He kisses me like he is missing something. Like he wants to lay a claim on me and watch the whole world burn from the aftermath of his decision. I kiss him back with all I have in me, my kisses made sloppy because of the liquor.

 But he doesn't seem to mind as he lifts me into the air. Instinctively, I wrap my legs around his waist as he moves back to the window, from where we can see the waterfall. My body is pinned between the window and him as his lips devour me, leaving only heat in his wake.

The glass chills my back while his heat sears my front. His hands roam-slow, deliberate, claiming every inch of skin like he's mapping me for a war he's about to start. "Look," he growls softly, turning my chin toward the waterfall outside. "I want you to remember what you were seeing the first time I made you shake for me."

I angle my head as his lips trail down my nape. I feel it in my core, my thighs pressed against each other, and my back arched into him. I try to tell myself why this is wrong, but all I can think of is the man in front of me, as he has consumed every fragment of my being.

One hand hooks around my waist, pulling me impossibly closer to him. A moan slips free from my lips as his other hand cups my boobs through my shirt. My head falls back when his hand slips lower, allowing the wave of passion to hit me.

A delicious ripple goes up my spine as he turns me around suddenly so that I am looking out into the night. He rips my clothes off me in one go, and the cool air caresses my skin. But the chill doesn't last as his hands find my naked frame.

My breath rages all around me, as his hands roam my skin, touching me in places I never knew were possible. And when he buries himself inside me, a loud gasp finds its way out of my lips.

"Fuck!" He whispers. "You are a virgin."

I don't trust my lips to say anything coherent, but I nod.

His breath stutters against my neck, his grip tightening on my hips. "You should have told me," he rasps. "I didn't think-" Lost in the heat of passion. "You didn't think I'd take you this hard?" His voice is a low, dangerous growl. "Or you didn't think I'd stop?"

He lifts me again and takes me to the bedroom, lowering me into the bed. As he carries me, the medallion at his throat flashes again-brighter, sharper. My wolf, weak for years, jolts under my skin as if shocked awake by lightning. I gasp.

He freezes. "What was that?" he whispers. I don't know. But the air tastes charged, like the night itself is holding its breath for what we're doing.

With one hand, he parts my legs open like a lab specimen and with the other, he made his way into my cunt, gently at first and roughly as I dripped slick juices on his fingers.

My hand wound around the fist, and the other buries in the thick strands of his hair as he thrusts.

Nothing makes sense in this moment, other than this. I feel every part of my body quiver as a blind wave of intense passion hits. I hear a scream in the room, but I am not sure if it is from me.

Minutes later he buried his face into my core, taking in my scent until I felt his tongue sucking deep on my cunt, licking up every juice I produced and sending me on a wild erratic pleasure.

"Please don't stop, I want your cock in me," I said to my chagrin.

That was all the permission he needed, as he slides his rod into me, slowly at first then ramming into me at high speed, banging the walls of my womb with each thrust.

My world breaks open. My back bows, his name ripping from my throat as something ancient detonates inside me-heat, power, hunger and a sticky liquid surging out so violently my vision whites out.The medallion on his chest flares brilliant green. He shudders above me, cursing into my neck as he follows me over the edge, his body shaking against mine.

Hours later, at the crack of dawn, I am sheathed in his arms, staring up at his flawless face. My brain nudges at me, as the familiarity I didn't realize last night begins to return.

My eyes widen as I push off him suddenly.

I just had sex with my mate's father. Alpha Kael, the Alpha of the Mystic Hollows Pack. This is all Aiden's plan. I can't believe I was so foolish as to fall for it.

Slipping out of bed, I try to find my clothes on the floor, but come up with nothing. I remember he took them off in the living room and I make to go out.

But my feet halt again when I see the glow on his neck again, this time, brighter. It is coming from something that looks like a crest, but in a half-moon shape. The closer I get to it, the brighter it glows. The medallion. His medallion. My hand reaches for it before my mind catches up, unable to stop myself as I take it off him-drawn, pulled, claimed by something older than either of us. The second my fingers close around it, the light lashes out like lightning. And then, I vanish.

The bed still smells like her.

 Warm. Sweet. Forbidden.

 Every time I drag in a breath, I taste her moans on the air and it makes my wolf snarl like he's losing something he never had the right to claim.

A loud knock echoes around the villa, and I open my eyes slowly. The sheet beside me is still slightly warm and crumpled with her form. I touch the indent where her body lay.

 It's still soft and warm. A low growl slips out of me before I can stop it. She shouldn't be gone yet. Not without the sound of her breath still in my ear.

But Lyra is nowhere to be found. I know the villa is empty even before I take a look around.

The banging echoes again, and I grab a robe, sauntering out of the room.

Jake stiffens the moment the door opens. He smells it. Her scent on my skin, on the sheets.

 His eyes widen a fraction before he forces them to the floor.

"Alpha Kael," my Beta calls, his eyes frantic. He looks like he just rolled out of bed, his hair sticking out in odd angles and his shoes mismatched.

"Are you fine?"

I angle my head, my Alpha instincts already rising to the surface. "What happened last night, Jake?"

Images of her hit me like fists-her nails in my shoulders, the way her breath caught every time I pushed deeper, the green flash of the medallion burning between us. Things I shouldn't remember this clearly.

He stops. "You felt it?"

"If I did, I wouldn't be asking you the damn question." Because I am connected to the earth as far as my pack is concerned, nothing goes on without my notice. But last night....it was different.

I felt disconnected, almost like a higher power had taken over.

It must be the reason I had no idea when Lyra took off.

Lyra.

 Her name echoes like a sin I shouldn't repeat.

 A girl whose face I never saw before last night yet my wolf is pacing like she's ours.

My Beta begins to say something, but he stops mid-sentence, tilting his head. His eyes scan the living room from the little crack in the door, and I pull it closer to me, stopping him from seeing any further.

One more inch and I would've ripped his throat out. No one looks into a room where I fucked a woman hard enough to shake my own control.

"Jake? You know I don't ask questions twice."

My feet move slightly, eager to get rid of my Beta. My wolf has been whining right from the moment I rolled out of bed.

Something isn't right. We need to find Lyra. I am sure it is connected to her.

"I...The...." He stammers, his fingers scratching the back of his ear.

"Jake!" I roar, my Alpha dominance pressing his gaze to the floor. "What the fuck happened?"

"The borders, Alpha Kael," he whimpers, unable to stop staring at the ground. "They have been breached and..."

My wolf lunges so fast my vision went black. It was not because of the breach.

 But the exact moment he says it, something hollow opens in my chest like a bond being yanked, severed, pulled out by its roots.

"When?"

"Early this morning."

Shit. I felt nothing.

"Who?"

"We don't know at this moment, Alpha...."

"You don't know?" My tone drops into a low murmur, and I don't know who I am angry at. Myself or the incompetence of my Beta.

Leaving the door open, I walk back inside the living room and into the bedroom, ignoring the memories of last night. I throw my closet door open and pull out a casual black t-shirt and a matching slacks, before coming out.

Jake is still standing by the door, his eyes on the ground. I hate using my powers on him, but since last night, I have felt so much disgust for him that I cannot even explain.

"Have you conducted a census?" I ask as I close the door behind me, walking through the hallway outside. I hear Jake

follow closely behind, his wolf probably whining about the situation but unable to do a thing about it.

"We did one as soon as the breach was known."

"So it might have occurred last

night then." Last night, when I was in the arms of a total stranger, that made me do things I would ordinarily not do.

"The prints are fresh, Alpha Kael," he murmurs. At least, he sounds certain of his reply. "It rained last night, so it happened before dawn, the footprints would have been washed off already."

"Is there anyone missing from the pack?" I question, throwing my car door open. Jake tries to get in beside me. I stop him.

"Didn't you come with a car?"

"I thought..."

"Answer my questions and come in your car. Is there anyone missing from the pack?"

"No."

"Did we have any guests come in

from outside the borders yesterday?"

Something's wrong, certainly not with the borders but with me.

 Last night, when she touched the medallion, my power cut out as if someone ripped the ground from under my feet.

"Yes, Alpha Kael," he replies, bowing so low that his head almost hits the car. "Members of Lunaris, as well as some other territories, were present for the wedding of your son and my daughter."

A wedding I let Aiden feel free to handle since he is in charge of the pack's politics. And for some reason, I fear that is the cause of the border breach. There was no way we would have been able to monitor who came in and out yesterday with the extent of the crowd that was present.

"Alpha Corvin?

My Beta nods. "He was around too, with his Luna."

I peer my gaze at Jake. "Alpha

Corvin was around, and he didn't tell me about it?"

"He didn't spend so much time here. I was..."

I zone out of the rest of his speech, trying to ascertain what exactly is going on. There are too many variables that need to be accounted for.

"Get into your car and follow me. Also, put a call to Aiden. Tell him to meet us at the border."

Jake rushes out to do my instructions while I move to the borders.

"The mind link isn't working," Aiden says as soon as he jumps out of the car. We arrive at the same time and walk side by side towards the demarcation.

"Something happened," I murmur, going low to inspect the ground. Jake was right. There are footsteps etched onto the earth, but they are uneven and irregular, almost like there were more than one person crossing through.

"An animal?"

I shake my head. They look human, one

small foot and the other, more dragged, as if someone or something intentionally pulled behind the prints to leave a distortion.

It might have been intentional.

Or not.

The scent is faint... but not gone. Not entirely.

 It threads beneath the dirt and rain, a mix of sweetness and fear.

 Her.

 My chest pulls tight enough to bruise.

My mind goes back to Lyra, and a thought begins to form in my head.

I look up at my son.

"At the wedding yesterday, there was a girl serving drinks. Lyra. Do you know her?"

The way he says her name too casually with a current of disrespect. It irritates me.

 I have no right to this feeling but I want to break his jaw for it anyway.

He takes a slow step back, his eyes

watching me warily. "She's Selene's friend," he murmurs. "But what has that got to do with this?"

"Selene's friend?" I can tell that he

is keeping something away. I have known Aiden all his life. It is easy for me to read through his walls.

But he doesn't answer me. Instead, hiseyes widen suddenly as they fall on my neck.

"Dad," he begins, panic creeping into his tone. "Where is the medallion?"

My hand flies to my neck instantly. All I could feel is a cols skin,, no chain, no medallion, nothing!

 A violent chill crashes through me, not because she stole it but because the earth beneath us trembles, as if reacting to the relic's absence.

 Aiden's face drains of color.

 "Dad... she took it?"

 A roar tears out of me, ripping through the trees because if the medallion awakened for her then Lyra isn't just a runaway Omega.

 She's a threat and a prophecy.

 A claim I never meant to make.

 And now I cannot afford to lose her.